


to the radiant sun:

by Quecksilver_Eyes



Series: Narnia Musings [63]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, on dying worlds and dying suns, on parallels, on shattering skies and still lands, on survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29089455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quecksilver_Eyes/pseuds/Quecksilver_Eyes
Summary: over a salt-white world; | frozen still | there sets a dying sun | spilling all that has once lived | from its light - | tightly woven, gold studded | choked.
Relationships: Jadis | The White Witch & Jadis' Sister, Lucy Pevensie & Susan Pevensie
Series: Narnia Musings [63]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714795
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	to the radiant sun:

over a salt-white world;  
frozen still  
there sets a dying sun

spilling all that has once lived  
from its light -   
tightly woven, gold studded

choked.

my darling:  
there are two sisters, with their hands in each other’s chests  
with their teeth in each other’s flesh  
with their world tilted  
atop a razor’s edge.

on one side, a sister swallows her other whole  
with clawed hands  
and glass-shard-teeth;  
jewel-sharp.

_see here; she’s grand, and terrible, too.  
see here – she’s taken the bones  
from within her land  
from within her flesh  
from within our teeth._

on the other, a sister holds her other  
deep within her bird-rib-cage  
a flutter like;  
a sob like;  
an ache like;  
a table – broken.

the sun; gold-spun.

_see here; she’s grand, and gentle, too.  
see here – she’s taken her bones  
from within the death of us  
and returned them;  
smiling, still._

I leave home and I leave the world and I leave my sister and all that drips frothing from the corners of my mouth. above a salt-still world, there rises a dying sun. my sister is still, and wide eyed – crowned.

this crown is _mine_. I’ve torn her open for it.   
this world is _–_ I’ve torn it open, see.  
it will always be winter, here.  
the sun will flicker, here.

this life is _mine_. i’ve defied a lion for it.  
that is to say:  
to the radiant southern sun,   
dying in your skies  
holding up the shards of a world;  
crumbling.

in a blooming field, a lion devours a witch whole. in a blooming field, a girl-queen kisses her brother’s salty cheeks. above them, the sun is not yet waning.

with her teeth ground sharp and her flesh fouled, Charn’s last shards rot into spring. with her head held high, Narnia’s radiant southern sun lives on beyond her world.

over a salt-white world;  
frozen still  
there sets a dying sun

spilling all that has once lived  
from its light -   
tightly woven, gold studded

choked.

**– on suns and world endings; on choices. on parallels; opposed. on that which is gentle. on that which is not.**


End file.
